Shooting Star

The summers of my college years were spent working with youth at a big church in Richland Washington. I loved all of the kids but there was a special connection with a few. Jeff was one of those. He showed up early to help me set things up and was one of the last to leave. Some mornings we met to go jogging together.

That’s why, one evening, when we couldn’t find Jeff, I was worried. We had been waterskiing on the Snake River. The boat would take five or six kids out at a time, leaving the       to play in a roped off area by the shore. It was time to go home and we had rounded everyone up. Everyone, that is, except Jeff.

After an hour of searching, we were alarmed. After two hours, we called 911. A team of divers came out and began to search the murky waters along the shore. One of them found Jeff’s lifeless body on the bottom. The image of his hand going up to indicate that the search was over is forever seared in my mind.

The next eight weeks were surreal, a blur of investigations, the funeral, and ongoing youth activities. I moved into the basement of Jeff’s home during this time and witnessed firsthand grief that I only comprehend now that I am a parent.

One evening during that time, I went outside to fire questions for which there is no answer at the night sky. As I fired accusations at God, a shooting star shot across the sky in the exact place where I was looking. Shooting stars on a summers evening are not unheard of, but somehow I felt the presence of God in this one. It didn't take away the pain but it offered comfort.

When the summer ended, I made the drive back to Pullman, through the badlands of Eastern Washington. It was that indescribable time when the day is over but it is not yet night. The sky was an iridescent, slate blue. Angry tears poured from my eyes. I pounded on the steering wheel. What possible explanation could God give for this summer? I believed that God was both loving and powerful but there was no way to square this with the death of my friend or the grief of his family.

At that moment, an immense flaming star appeared in the eastern sky and arced to the west for ten full seconds.  This was not the normal flash of white against a black backdrop. It was a flaming orange ball with a long glowing tail. I pulled to the side of the road and bowed my head, feeling my angry tears dissolved into tears of a joy. It was not an answer, but somehow, everything was okay.

From a scientific point of view, shooting stars are not miracles. Space debris hits our atmosphere constantly. The appearance of that shooting star can easily be explained as a coincidence which an emotionally vulnerable young man chose to interpret as that presence of God. I understand this perspective; I just don’t believe it.

Jesus of Nazareth was a shooting star whose life left a mark on our world. That much is beyond dispute. But what does that life mean? Was his life like a piece of piece of space dust hitting the atmosphere or was it the star of Bethlehem, a visitation of God? What does it mean to trust Jesus? Is this superstition for weak-minded fools who can't face the truth or is it the secret of eternal life?

In this chapter, I will examine the life of Jesus, starting with what everyone saw, then exploring various ideas about the significance.

What Everyone Saw

People may not agree on the significance of Jesus but we should at least be able to agree on the data: A man named Jesus of Nazareth appeared on the scene in the early first century. He went from village to village, proclaiming and explaining the Kingdom of God. Some believed him to have miraculous powers. He spent most of his time with the poor and disenfranchised and offended the political-religious establishment of his day.

Although he never called for armed revolution, the religious leaders told the Romans that he was a threat. Rome dealt with Jesus as it did with all who made...